


Road trip

by Haydryk



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Gen, I tried writing it so pronouns aren't used, That way anyone can read it and not feel excluded (?), gender neutral reader, i try my best ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haydryk/pseuds/Haydryk
Summary: Getting a few days off your work wasn't easy, but you deserved a little fun vacation, don't you? So you got one of your long time friends, Paul McCartney to come with you to middle of nowhere. It was sure to be fun.Well, at least that's what you thought it would be, but maybe getting stuck in a deserted highway isn't that bad...
Relationships: Paul McCartney/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Road trip

This trip was supposed a little escape from day to day stress, but instead, it brought you even more troubles.

You had manage to get a whole free week from work, so you took your wine red Ford Anglia and drove straight to Paul McCartney's house.

There were no plans, that's what you told him. It was driving to wherever the road took you, so, obviously, Paul jumped in with no further questioning.

The two of you had known each other for as long as you had memory. You were there when Paul got his first guitar, and you were there when The Beatles recorded their first album.

Saying that Paul and you were close was an understatement.

Paul knew you had worked with cars before, so when the car suddenly stopped in the middle of the deserted road coming from any place and leading to nowhere, he didn't worry much at first. That's until he saw your face when tampering with the engine.

—Fuck... —He heard you curse for, at least, the 15th time.

You dried your forehead with the back of your arm, finally closing the bonnet.

Paul walked over to you, resting his arm on the car's roof.

—Well? —He asked.

—I can't do anything. I have no idea what the fuck made it stop —You sighed in desperation. Paul groaned a low "God damnit" in response —. Come, help me pull it over to the kerb.

Paul nodded and pushed the car with you to the sleeve of the highway.

Once there, he offered you a cigarette, which you happily accepted.

Leaning on the car, you two stared at the road ahead, taking your time to try and forget your situation for as long as the cigarette lasted. That had always been the point of smoking breaks, after all.

—I'm sorry I pulled you into this mess, Macca. —You apologized, exhaling deeply.

—Oh, it's fine. —He said absentmindedly.

You assumed he was as mentally exhausted as you were.

—What are we gonna do now? —asked Paul after some minutes, turning his head to face you.

—Hitch-hike, I guess.

—What about the car?

—Angie can wait for a while. We can't be here forever. —Paul laughed at the cheesy nickname you gave your car.

—She isn't going to be here when you come back, y'know?– if you even remember where this is.

—I've lost more important things than a car, I think I can deal with that —You took a long drag —. Plus, you can be me chauffeur.

—Not in a million years —joked Paul —. I can't risk you fucking up my car.

You laughed, giving your cigarette one last drag and threw it to the ground, then stepped on it to put it off.

Paul watched you walk ahead and look out for any car that may come.

He thought about how unfortunate it was, but at the same time, he only wished to live in that highway forever, without having to worry about the press, or the critics talking about his music career.

He had his guitar, and he had you, what else did he need? If he was lucky, he could convince John to come to the empty highway, then he would truly be happy.

He smiled to how ridiculous his own thoughts could get.

Paul saw you walk even further away and, after a few seconds, extend your hand with the thumb up.

The man walked ahead and finally spotted another car, which approached at a much higher speed than the allowed.

The car didn't slow down even a bit, and you had to retreat your hand to avoid it being hit.

—You son of a bitch! —You shouted at the speeding vehicle, walking towards Paul angrily —. That fucker almost snatched my arm!

—Yeah, I fucking saw that. Are you alright?

—Yes, I'm fine. Let's just wait for the next car.

Nearly 2 hours and a half had passed since you said that, and not a single sign of life had approached.

Paul and you had already given up, and had decided to sit on the boot of the car to play Blackjack.

—Stay. —You stated, peeking once again at your cards.

Paul grabbed another card from the pile and smiled.

—Ready? —You nodded —. 22. —said Paul showing his cards: two 6s and a king.

You stared at him, looking at your cards again.

—16. —You finally spoke, revealing two aces, a 5, a 3 and a 6.

Paul grinned proudly, letting a chuckle escape his lips.

—You are bloody horrible at this.

—I'm not! You're just a cheater! —You exclaimed jokingly. Paul gasped and faked being offended.

—How dare you! —He said, putting emphasis on "dare".

You two played a couple more rounds, then picked up the cards once you decided Paul was the winner of the game.

The sky was getting dark, and the stars were beginning to show up.

Paul noticed this first, and gave you a worried look.

—What if no one comes around?

—Oh, come on, Macca! This highway isn't forgotten! Someone will come, eventually. —You answered, trying to convince more yourself than Paul.

He stared at the stars above, daydreaming about living with the loves of his life in middle of nowhere, probably with a brand new car.

Without a warning, you slapped Paul's thigh, making him flinch.

—Move your round ass, I have to get something. —You said with a grin on your face, letting him know you didn't mean to offend him. It wasn't needed, though, you had been saying that in a friendly way for the past 13 years.

Paul moved and you opened the boot, taking a mattress out.

The man looked at you with a questioning look, which you responded to by smiling widely.

—What are you doing? —He laughed as he watched you laid the mattress on top of the car's roof. You got on top and motioned Paul to join you.

You sat with your legs crossed and offered him both of your hands, which he gladly held onto as he got to the roof.

He kept holding onto your hands when he found himself almost on top of you.

—Good evening, madame. —He said.

—Greetings, good sir. —You followed, laughing.

Paul positioned himself next to you, reluctant to let go of your right hand, then laid there with you, looking at the stars.

Both of you went quiet for some minutes, focusing on the moon for now.

You felt Paul's thumb brushing against you knuckles lightly. Occasionally, he would squeeze your hand, and you'd squeeze back. This, of course, only encouraged Paul to squeeze twice, so, naturally, you raised him, squeezing three times, and so it went on untill you lost count and laughed together.

Suddenly, Paul spoke:

—This is breathtaking. —You turned to face him briefly, then went back to looking at the sky.

—So are you. —Paul laughed, flustered.

—Tell me something I don't know. —He brushed off.

You fell silent for a couple of minutes, then called out.

—Macca, listen. —You tapped your fingernails on the roof with your free hand, making irregular patterns.

—What's that supposed to mean? —He chuckled and looked at you.

—It's Morse code —You answered, turning your head to him —It doesn't mean anything. I just made it up. —You giggled.

Paul laughed at your comment and looked back to the stars.

You sighed slightly at the realization that this couldn't last forever, and that Paul was a rockstar. He had so much going on in his life, he couldn't afford to just get lost in the highway looking at the stars with his friend.

You moved closer to Paul and put your weight on your elbow, never letting go of his hand.

—Macca. —You called. He looked at you once again, and you leaned down to brush your noses together for a Eskimo kiss.

He closed his eyes and giggled, scrunching his nose, making that adorable face you loved so much.

You giggled with him, laying down again. This time, Paul had an arm around you. He didn't pull you close, though.

—I wished I could be stuck here forever. —You confessed, feeling a little selfish, since, if your wish came true, Paul wouldn't be able to follow his music career.

He looked at you for a moment, just enjoying your presence, the fact that you were in his arms.

—I'm glad the car broke down. I haven't had a moment with you in years, y'know? —Paul sighed and opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it. After a few seconds of wondering, he finally spoke:

—This makes me think about how we haven't been with each other as much in the last couple of years... —You let out a little "aham" — And I was wondering... If we're still as close as we were before, y'know? —You couldn't help but laugh a little.

—Do you see ourselves when we're together? I've known you for longer I can remember. You even have the keys to my flat! Anyone who sees us thinks we're dating.

—Then, why aren't we? —Asked Paul after a moment of silence, squeezing your hand.

You stay silent for a couple of minutes more, trying to process the meaning of Paul's question.

You squeezed his hand twice.

—Its getting really late. We should go inside the car and sleep.— You suggested after a couple of minutes.

He nodded and jumped off the roof, taking away the mattress once you were in the ground.

—You can sleep in the back seat. It's more comfy.— You said from the opposite side of the car.

—What? No, no, it's your car, you get the backseat.

—I pulled you into this mess, it's the least I can do.— You insisted, going around to open the door for him.

He reluctantly sat on his knees and grabbed a pillow.

—Do you wanna sleep with me? —You laughed at his comment.

—I'm not that skinny. Not even a supermodel would fit there. —He gave you his best lost puppy eyes, hugging the pillow in an attempt to appear more innocent.

—Pretty please?

—No. —You leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. After hesitating a bit, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him properly, to which Paul gladly corresponded.

His lips were soft and tasted like nicotine, making you weak on the knees as he easily took the lead.

You slid the tip of your finger down his spine, which caused a shudder you could feel through the kiss.

You broke the kiss, biting his bottom lip.

Paul whined.

In response, you slapped his ass and made him jump a little.

—Are you really going to leave me like this? —He said when he saw you close the door.

You opened the nearside door and took a seat.

—Don't worry, I'll suck your dick tomorrow to compensate. —You joked, turning to face him.

—Promise? —You chuckled.

—Good night.

—Night. I love you. —He laid down as you turned around and made yourself comfortable.

—Love you.


End file.
